Fortress of Solitude
by o0O-Archimedes-O0o
Summary: <html><head></head>Alan was seven years old, and his little sister Julia very nearly six, when their father sat him down to break the surprising news to him: that he was a wizard. Minor spoilers for 'Charmed & Dangerous: The Story of the Lost Wand'. Implied pre-Jalan.</html>
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** _Fortress of Solitude_

**Rating/Content:** T/PG for a few instances of mild language. Implied pre-Jalan.

**Disclaimer:** I make no claim of ownership to _Charmed and Dangerous, _or its characters. No copyright infringement is intended. Please don't sue. (And, once again, if any of you understood the sheer, crippling irony of me having to write that, your heads would likely asplode. Mine almost does, every single time. Such is life, I guess.) Please enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>-1-<strong>

Alan was seven years old, and his little sister Julia very nearly six, when their father sat him down to break the surprising news to him: that he was a wizard.

It hadn't been the greatest of mornings, up until that point. Alan had woken up feeling...well, not exactly sick, but _weird_. His head felt tight, as though overnight his skull had shrunk, or his brain had grown. (Three sizes, like the Grinch's heart after the Whos down in Whoville showed him the true meaning of Christmas.) And though Mom had pressed her lips to his forehead and insisted he didn't have a fever—not exactly the most scientific method, but even at seven, he already knew better than to argue with a stubborn latina—his entire body felt like it was on fire, as if molten hot magma was running through his veins.

"Well, if you feel that bad, _mijo_, maybe we should keep you home from school today, just in case," Mom said, frowning as she tried to feed another spoonful of hot cereal to baby Sam in his high-chair. The two year-old kept pressing his lips shut and turning his face at the last second, so that it would wind up smeared all over his face, instead of in his mouth. Judging from the way he giggled every time it happened, little Sammy thought it hilarious.

"If Alan's not going to school, I get to stay home with him!" Julia announced, around a mouthful of Lucky Charms.

"But I _want_ to go to school!" Alan protested. "We're starting a new phonics workbook today, and it has a _robot_ on the cover!"

"Alan, stop being a stupid-head!" Julia hissed, leaning forward and staring at him as though he were insane. "If we stay home, we can watch TV all day!"

"You only go to school until lunchtime! You spend half the day watching TV, anyway!"

"But you aren't here to watch it _with_ me, you retard!" Julia grunted, kicking her heel of her shoe against her chair leg in frustration. "It's boring without you. Besides, all the best shows come on in the morning. I _never_ get to see _Tiny Toons_, anymore..."

"Julia, what have I told you about calling your brother a retard?" Mom sighed, as she wiped beige mush off little Sam's cheeks. "For the last time, we don't use that word in this house. Now hurry up and finish your breakfast. I'll have to walk you to school myself if Alan's staying home sick."

"But I don't wanna go to school!" Julia pouted, in the same breath that Alan whined "But I don't wanna stay home!"

"Mom, I am _not _sick," Alan continued, even as Julia glared at him over her cereal. "I feel all better, honest."

"You are _too_ sick, and you need _me _to stay home and help you get better," Julia growled.

"I do _not_, Julia."

"You do _too_, Alan."

"No, I _don't!_"

"Yes, you _do!_"

"Don't!"

"Do!"

"Kids, knock it off," Mom groaned, as Sam began to cry. "Stop shouting. You're upsetting your baby brother."

"See what you did, Julia? You're such a brat!"

"Shut up, dork! You made him cry, too!"

"Baby!"

"Penis-breath!"

"JULIA!" Mom gasped, staring at her daughter in shock and struggling to keep herself from laughing as she lifted Sam out of his high-chair. "We don't use _that _word in this house, either!"

Julia blinked at her mother, bewildered. "But Uncle Kirby calls Daddy that all the time! I've heard him!"

Face flushed, little fists balled in anger at his sides, Alan clambered up onto his chair and leaned over the table towards his sister. "I. Do. _NOT._ Have pee...pee...pee..._PEE-CHOOOOOO!_"

And then Julia shrieked and ducked under the table, slipping out of her booster seat just in time, as a blast of orange flame erupted from Alan's nose, passing just over the top of her head and singeing the back of her chair. Alan yelped and clapped both hands over his nose and mouth, staring over them at the charred wooden chair before him with eyes the size of saucers.

A pregnant moment of silence filled the room as everyone—even baby Sam—took an instant to quietly absorb what had just transpired. Frightened, Alan looked from the smoking, blackened chair to his mother, hands still firmly clamped over the lower half of his face, as Julia's head tentatively poked out from beneath the table.

"Is _that_ what penis-breath means?" she asked, staring up at her brother in awe. "Because that was _awesome!_"

Balancing Sam on her hip, Mom blinked from Julia, to Alan, to the wisps of smoke rising from the back of the chair, and back to Julia. Then, turning towards the yellow spiral staircase that led down to the Hoagie Hub below the loft, she raised her free hand to the side of her face, cupping it around her mouth.

"TERRY!" she called, at the top of her lungs. "YOU'D BETTER GET YOUR EX-WIZARD ASS UP HERE!"


	2. Chapter 2

**-2-**

"A wizard?" Alan asked. Perched on the hood of the car in the basement garage, he frowned up at his father. "So then I _don't_ have penis-breath?"

Dad snorted, then shook his head and rested a large hand on Alan's shoulder. "No, son, you don't. Now, uh, let's stop using that word, OK? At least in front of your mother?"

"But then why did I breathe fire?" Alan asked, confused. "Wizards don't breathe fire, Dad. Dragons do."

"You breathed fire because your breath was what you were focused on," Dad said, smiling at him proudly. "You just used magic for the first time, Alan. Your wizard powers are starting to come in, a few years ahead of schedule, and you accidentally just used them to cast your very first spell."

"Magic is REAL?" Alan exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. "And I used it to cast a spell? Like _Magic Missile_ in _Dungeons & Gargoyles_?"

"Well...sort of, I guess," Dad shrugged. "It works a little differently in the real world, but-"

"How does it work?" Alan asked eagerly. "Do you have to say magic words, like _a la peanut butter sandwiches_? Do you have to use a wand? Do they all come shooting out of your nose?"

"Uh...yes, sometimes and no," Dad replied, then held up his hand as Alan opened his mouth again. "Look, I know you have a lot of questions, son, and I promise we'll get to them all, but not just yet. I have to call your Uncle Kirby and get a few things set up before I can start giving you proper wizard lessons."

"I'm gonna take wizard lessons?" Alan asked, bouncing up and down on the car's hood.

"Every day after school from now on," Dad nodded, grinning at his son's enthusiasm. "Just you and me, in a secret place where the rest of the world can't find us. Well, at least until your sister and your brother get their powers, anyway."

"JULIA AND SAM ARE WIZARDS, TOO?"

"They _will_ be, sure," Dad laughed. "Magic runs in the family, see? And since I was a wizard, it means all my kids will be too, once they get old enough for their powers to develop. It usually doesn't happen until about age eleven or twelve...but then, you started walking and talking earlier than the books said you should, so I probably shouldn't be surprised that you came into magic earlier, too..."

"Oh, boy!" Alan said, bracing his hands on either side of him as he prepared to hop off the car. "Wait'll I tell Julia!"

"Woah, hold on there, Alan," Dad said, quickly placing a hand on each of his arms and holding him in place. "We can't tell Julia, OK? Not yet, anyway. This has to be our little secret for awhile."

Alan's face fell. "What? Why?"

Dad sighed, and frowned, as though what he were about to say made him very sad. "Not everyone knows that magic is real, son. In fact, most people don't. Only wizards like us. And one of the most important rules about being a wizard is that you can never tell somebody who doesn't already know."

"But why not?"

"Because it might scare normal people to know that magic was real," Dad explained, in the serious voice he didn't use very often . "And since they can't use it, it could also make them jealous or angry. And given that there's a lot more of them than there are of us, that could lead to...problems."

Alan nodded, wisely. He knew the trouble that could result from being outnumbered, and hated for being different. The other boys at school _still_ teased him for watching _Barney & Friends_, thanks to Julia and her stupid big mouth.

"Oh," he said, as a sudden realization struck him. "And that's why we can't tell Julia, isn't it? 'Cause she might tell, and get us all in trouble."

"Exactly," Dad said, breathing a sigh of relief that Alan understood. "Not until she's old enough to understand how important it is. I think it'll be OK once her own powers start to kick in, but until then, we have to keep it a secret from her."

Alan nodded solemnly, lowering his chin to his chest and frowning at the tips of his shoes. And, just like that, it started to drizzle. Inside. In the basement garage.

"Uh...Alan?" His brow furrowing, Dad cast a glance up at the dark clouds that had appeared out of nowhere, hovering just below the ceiling. Wiping a raindrop off he nose, he hunched over a little and dipped his head to try and meet Alan's gaze. "You OK, buddy?"

Alan nodded again, but when he raised his head, his eyes were red and glassy as he struggled not to cry. "It's just...me and Julia tell each other everything."

"I know, pal," Dad sighed. Turning around, he settled himself on the edge of the hood next to Alan, and draped an arm around him. Alan's stomach lurched as the car's suspension abruptly dropped them several inches.

"Look at it this way," Dad said, after a moment. "It'll be like you have a secret identity."

Alan looked up at him. "You mean like a super hero?"

"Right," Dad said. "Just like that one guy you like...what's his name? Captain Suregood."

"_Captain Jim Bob Sherwood_, Dad," Alan corrected him, rolling his eyes. "And he doesn't even _have_ a secret identity. _Everybody_ knows who he is. His name is right there in the _title_!"

"Well, OK...like Superman, then," Dad said, hunching his shoulders against the intensifying rain. "Just like him, you need to keep your powers a secret, to protect the people you love from anyone who might want to hurt them to get to you."

Alan narrowed his eyes, considering. Above, the rain began to let up a little as he warmed up to the idea.

"So it'd be like I'm Clark Kent...and Julia is Lois Lane?"

"Uh...kind of, sure," Dad said. "I mean, not exactly, but the basic principle is—"

"Does this mean I have to start wearing glasses?" Alan asked, cutting him off.

Dad blinked at him, then smiled. "No. But, at least for a little while, you will have to start wearing something else..."

Clapping Alan on the shoulder, Dad bolted up off the hood-causing Alan's stomach to lurch again as the suspension bounced beneath him-and set about rummaging through the pile of cardboard boxes filled with old junk that were clustered around the home gym. Alan glanced from him to the miniature rainstorm happening above his head, marveling at the tiny claps of thunder it generated as needle points of lightning arced from one cloud to the next.

"Am I doing this?" he asked. "This is nuts! How am I supposed to keep my powers a secret if I keep casting spells without meaning to?"

"It's only temporary, until your magic settles down and you've had a chance to learn how to control it," Dad said, his voice muffled, coming as it did from deep inside a box as he tossed one piece of old clothing after another over his shoulder. "But until then...we'll keep it under wraps...with...aha, with _this!_"

Dad yanked something out of the box, then, and spun around to grin at Alan as he held it triumphantly over his head. Thunder crashed overhead, the clouds hovering below the ceiling letting loose a miniature monsoon as Alan got a good look at it, and his face fell.

"Wait, you want me to wear _that_?" he asked in disbelief.


	3. Chapter 3

**-3-**

"Take that thing off," Julia commanded him, after their parents had hustled them through the front door of the Hoagie Hub and out onto the street. "_Now_, Alan. I mean it."

"Why?" Alan asked, looking around self-consciously at the stares he was drawing from passerby. "What's the big deal? It's just a hat."

"It's a _stupid_ hat!" Julia growled over her shoulder as she walked three paces ahead of him, embarrassed. "It makes you look _stupid_. Hell, it makes _me_ look stupid, and I'm just standing next to you!"

Alan heaved a sigh and slumped his shoulders, as he felt his cheeks burn beneath the wide brim of the floppy, multi-colored velvet hat their Dad had pulled out of the box and placed on his head. The rainstorm had dissipated immediately, along with any remaining shred of dignity that Alan had left to cling to in the wake of the Barney incident.

Julia looked back over her shoulder at him to see if he'd complied with her demand. Her eyes widened in angry disbelief when realized he hadn't, and she spun stiffly back around to face front.

"Take it _off_, penis-breath!" she hissed loudly.

"Mom and Dad said to quit calling me that, Julia," Alan said, quickening his pace to match hers. "I sneezed fire because Mom put too many tamales in the enchiladas last night, that's all. I do _not _have...anything wrong with my breath."

"No, you just have something wrong with your _brain_," she shot back.

He caught up to her as they reached the corner, the red hand signal forcing her to stop and wait for him. She fumed in silence beside him while they waited for it to turn, refusing to look at him as a passing cab driver actually honked and gave him a thumbs-up through the windshield of his taxi. When the light changed, Alan reached down to take her hand like he always did (as their mother had instructed him to whenever they crossed the street) but Julia ripped her hand out of his before they could even step off the curb.

"Don't!" she whined. "It's embarrassing enough being _near_ you! I don't want people to think you're my _boyfriend_, or something!"

Alan stopped short in the middle of the intersection, staring at her back, feeling as though she'd just punched him in the stomach. She'd _never _refused to hold his hand before, not even during the whole Barney debacle. Oh, she'd teased and taunted him the whole way to school every day for a week, as she'd skipped next to him, but she'd happily swung their hands back and forth between them while she'd done it.

Frowning, he reached up with both hands and started to tug the hat off his head, but hesitated. Dad had told him to keep it on at all times until his magic was under control. There was no telling what might happen, otherwise, what he might do accidentally. And if somebody noticed, and realized it was _him_ doing it...

_"You need to keep your powers a secret, to protect the people you love from anyone who might want to hurt them to get to you."_

The shrill honk of car horn jolted him out of his reverie, and Alan realized the light had changed again while he'd been standing there, lost in indecision. Blushing fiercely, he waved an apology at the driver leaning on her horn, and hurried the rest of the way across the street. Julia hadn't so much as hesitated, and was already halfway down the next block.

"Ugh, you again?" she grunted as he caught up to her once more. "Look, either take off that stupid hat or go _away_!"

"I _can't_ take off this stupid hat, OK?" he said, between clenched teeth. "I _want_ to, trust me, but I can't! I _have_ to keep wearing it!"

"Why not? Did you lose a bet or something?"

"No!" Alan said impatiently as he jogged next to her, slightly out of breath. Even though her legs were shorter than his, she was walking so fast to get away from him that he was having a hard time keeping up. The hat bounced awkwardly on his head, and he had to keep reaching up to tug it back into place, lest it should fall off. "Dad told me I have to keep it on for a couple days."

"So?" Julia scoffed. "Daddy's not here now! Just take it off and stuff it in your backpack all day. You can put it back on when we're almost home, and just tell him you wore it all day!"

Alan nearly stopped short again as he stared down at his little sister, scandalized. "What, you mean _lie_ to him?"

"Duh, yes!" Julia snapped, as though he'd just said the most obvious thing in the world.

"I...I can't do _that_!"

"Sure you can! It's easy! I do it all the time!"

Alan shook his head sharply, then immediately regretted it as the hat threatened to topple over.

"Ugh, you're such a goody-goody," Julia grunted, rolling her eyes. "Fine, let me do it, then. If we get caught, you can blame me."

_"Julia, no!" _Alan shrieked, as Julia stood up on the toes of her Converse. He jerked backwards out of the way as she reached for his hat, and she very nearly toppled over, only managing to catch herself on the front of his jacket at the last second.

"You jerk! You almost made me fall over!" Glaring at him, she stood back up on her tiptoes and made another grab for the hat, only to have him dodge out of the way again. "Agh, would you knock it off? I'm trying to help you, stupid!"

"Julia, stop it! I can't take off the hat, OK?"

"Why _no-oo-oo-ooo-ooot?_" Julia whined, stomping her foot impatiently.

"Because!"

"Because _why?_"

"Because I...I..." Alan trailed off, took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. "Look, I can't tell you, OK?"

Julia immediately stopped reaching for the hat, and looked at him as though he'd slapped her across the face. "What?"

"Dad said I can't tell you," Alan said quietly, wincing at the way she frowned at him when he said it, and the tears he could see welling up in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over. "I...I really want to, but— "

He broke off as a school bell rang, echoing in the distance, three blocks away.

"Oh great," he sighed, turning to look down the street. "Now we're gonna be late. C'mon, let's run. If we hurry, we might still get there before the second—"

He broke off again as Julia turned on her heels and took off down the sidewalk without him, with nary even a glance over her shoulder to see if he was following. For the second time in the space of ten minutes, he was left standing in her dust, staring at her Powerpuff Girls backpack as it bounced along behind her. He'd never seen her run to school that fast before. It was more as though she was running _away_...from him.

_"Nice hat, Barney!"_ somebody yelled, as a bunch of fifth grade boys ran past him. Before he could react, one of their hands snaked out and knocked it off him. Then they all laughed uproariously as—fearing he might accidentally bring about the end of the world, or turn them all into elephants—he scrambled to scoop it up off the ground, dropping his backpack in the process. And just as he finally jammed it back onto his head with both hands, the second bell rang. Now he was _really_ late, which meant a tardy slip was unavoidable.

Alan wrinkled his nose at the thought. He'd never gotten a tardy slip before.

Heaving a sigh as he brushed the top of the floppy hat back out of his eyes, Alan swung his backpack up onto his shoulder and started to run. Terrific. So far, he'd only been a wizard for thirty-five minutes, and already it had ruined his life.

Casting _Magic Missile _for real had better be really freaking awesome, that's all he was going to say.


	4. Chapter 4

**-4-**

Lungs burning, dark spots dancing before his eyes, Alan nearly collapsed against the door of the Hoagie Hub as he finally reached it, after having run the whole way home from school as fast as his legs would carry him. His chest heaving, he yanked it open with all his might and stumbled inside. Ignoring the laughter and catcalls that erupted from the high schoolers who made up most of the lunch rush, as they caught sight of his hat, he cast his gaze around the busy restaurant until he spotted his mother taking a customer's order on the far side. And even though there was a long-standing rule about not bothering either of his parents while they were dealing with customers, Alan frantically elbowed his way through the crowd towards her.

"Mom!" he called, ducking under the hands of the teenagers at table nine, as they tried to pluck his hat off when he passed. "Mom, we need to call the police! Julia's been kidnapped!"

"Excuse me a moment, please," Mom said to the bewildered old couple she'd been talking to at table six, smiling tightly at them as she grabbed hold of the strap of Alan's backpack and tugged him towards her. "I just need to have a quick word with my son. Be right back."

Alan stumbled as she shoved him ahead of her, steering him through the crowd towards the swinging door that led into the Hub's empty kitchen.

"What do you think you're doing, blurting out nonsense like that in the middle of a rush, Alan?" she scolded him, after she'd pushed him through ahead of her. "Are you _trying_ to start a panic? I swear, you nearly gave that poor old woman a heart attack!"

"But Mom, it's _not_ nonsense! Julia _has_ been kidnapped!" Alan protested. "She didn't meet me at the playground so I could walk her home, like she's supposed to! So I went to her class, and called into the girls' bathroom, and looked all over the school, and I couldn't find her _anywhere_! She's _gone!_"

"She's not gone, Alan," Mom sighed, even as she smiled at him fondly. "And she hasn't been kidnapped. Julia's been home for twenty minutes. She's in the streetcar, having milkshakes with one of her little friends from school."

Alan's mouth fell open, as he stared out the pass-through at the Hoagie Hub's trademark vintage streetcar, which made up part of the restaurant. Sure enough, he could just make out the top of his sister's head through one of the windows, her dark pigtails waving back and forth as she talked animatedly with somebody he couldn't see.

Julia had come home _without_ him? But she _never_ did that! They _always_ waited for one another. And walked home together. And sat on the couch and eat PB&J's together as they watched TV together, veering from _Dexter's Laboratory_ to _TRL_ and back again as they fought over the remote, until it was time for him to go back to school. Neither of them ever brought home other friends. Heck, neither of them even _had_ other friends...mainly because Julia didn't like other people, and other people didn't like Alan. And they'd been fine with that, because they'd always had each other. What did they need other people for?

So why in the world had she brought someone _else _home with her?

"What are you talking about?" he asked his mother, narrowing his eyes at her. "What friend?"

Mom shrugged as she tucked her order pad into her apron, and started to wash her hands over the sink. "Pretty little red-haired girl? I think Julia said her name was...Heidi, or something?"

"Heidi? But we don't have a Heidi in our—" He broke off mid-sentence as a sudden thought struck him. "Wait, you don't mean Hayley, do you? Hayley Finster?"

"Hayley, that's it," Mom nodded, wiping her hands off on a dishrag. She grimaced as she cast a glance around the kitchen. "Now where the hell does your father keep disappearing to? TERRY?"

"Julia's hanging out with _Hayley Finster?_" Alan exclaimed. "Agh, why? She's weird! She's always staring at me! And her mother dresses her funny!"

"That's not a very nice thing to say, mijo. Besides, people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones," Mom said, with a glance at Alan's hat. "TERRY, KNOCK IT OFF! I'M WAITING ON THREE ORDERS, HERE!"

As if on cue, the heavy metal door to the vegetable cooler swung open, and Dad poked his head out.

"Sorry, Heralda," he said. "I was just helping Kirby to put the finishing touches on the—oh, Alan! Good, you're home! Come on in here for a second, son. Your uncle and I want to show you something."

Alan frowned at him, then leaned to the side and tried to peer past him into the cooler. "Uncle Kirby's here? In our freezer? But I thought you said he was working out of the country..."

"Kirby? _Working?_ Ha!" Mom scoffed. "Now _there's_ a magic trick I'd like to see."

Alan's frown deepened as he looked from his dad to his mom, and back again. "So, what? You mean he _doesn't_ work? But then how does he—?"

"It's kind of a long story, Alan, but it'll all make sense in a minute." Grinning, Dad stretched his arm out the door, and beckoned him into the freezer. "Now c'mon and check this out, already! It's so cool!"

"Oh, no you don't!" Mom growled, grabbing hold of Dad's hand, and physically yanking him out into the kitchen. "Table five has been waiting on their tuna melt for almost ten minutes, already! Out!"

"But honey!" Dad protested, reaching back for the cooler door as it slammed shut behind him. "I just wanted to show him the—"

"Your brother can show him. It's not like _he _has a job to get back to, or anything."

"But—!"

Mom cut him off with a glare that meant business as she stepped back out through the swinging door and hurried back towards the old couple whose order she'd been in the middle of taking when Alan had interrupted.

"Yes, dear," Dad sighed heavily, even though she was out of earshot. Shoulders slumped as he crossed the kitchen to the sandwich-making station, he glanced at Alan and jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

"Why don't you go join your uncle in the cooler, Alan? I'll be along in a few minutes, once the lunch rush calms down."

"Uh...should I go upstairs and get a coat, or maybe some earmuffs, first? Because you know how I get an ear ache whenever I—"

"Alan...please just go in, OK?"

"OK, Dad," Alan said. Looking over his shoulder through the pass-through, towards the streetcar—just in time to see Julia's wide, brown eyes dart away from him, just above the bottom of the window—Alan stepped over towards the heavy metal door, grabbed onto the handle with both hands, yanked it open with all his might—

—and stepped through not into the freezer, but into an unfamiliar room he'd never set foot in before.

Alan gasped in surprise as he suddenly found himself in a scene straight out of the _Dungeons and Gargoyles Game Master's Handbook_: a cozy, brick-lined room filled to bursting with shelves upon shelves of musty, leather-bound books, bottles of all shapes and sizes filled with liquids in every color of the rainbow, and all manner of occult trinkets and knickknacks, from skulls and statues to candles and cauldrons. A large, oddly-shaped French door took up almost the entire wall on the opposite side of the room, each of its stained-glass panels frosted over and flashing brightly in multi-colored hues. And there, in the middle of it all, lying back on Dad's dusty old recliner from the basement and fanning himself with what looked like an over-sized, petrified bat wing, was Uncle Kirby.

"Oh, hey kiddo," Uncle Kirby wheezed, then lazily waved his arm around to encompass all the magical bric-a-brac surrounding them. "Welcome to your brand spankin' new Wizard's Grotto. Surprise!"

Lifting his other arm, which had been dangling out of sight over the arm of the recliner, Uncle Kirby waved a long, black and white wand at Alan. The tip of it glowed blue for a split second, and then Alan found himself blowing a noise-maker that had suddenly materialized in his mouth, as an explosion of confetti and streamers appeared out of thin air, and drifted down around him towards the floor.

"There," Uncle Kirby huffed, dropping his arm again and lolling his head to the side, as if the effort had winded him. "Excuse me if I don't get up, huh kid? I've spent all morning dragging all this stuff out of wizard storage, and I'm zonked. Nice hat, by the way. Man, does _that _hideous thing bring back memories..."

"Wizard storage?" Alan yanked the noise maker out of his mouth and stared around the room in wide-eyed wonderment. "Wait, you mean all this stuff is _mine_?"

"Well, yes and no. A lot of it's family heirlooms and crap, but seeing as how your Dad's not a wizard anymore, and I don't have much use for any of it myself—I've always preferred to travel light, y'see, in the unlikely event of a strategic withdrawal—yeah, I guess it's all yours for now, sure. At least until Julia and Sam get old enough for _their_ powers to kick in, anyway."

Alan wrinkled his nose at this, the idea that it would eventually belong to Julia, too. On the one hand, he didn't _want _to have to wait until her powers came in to share it with her...but on the other hand, he knew that Julia didn't exactly have the firmest grasp on the whole concept of sharing to begin with.

"But where the heck _are_ we, Uncle Kirby?" Alan asked, still turning slowly on his heels as he took in the size and scope of the place. "How is this room so big when the cooler was so small? And how are going to keep all the vegetables and stuff from spoiling now that it's gone?"

Uncle Kirby shook his head and chuckled lightly. "Kiddo, one of the first things you're gonna have to learn as a wizard is to stop thinking so literally. Just because we came through the freezer door doesn't mean that we're _in _the freezer."

"It...doesn't?" Alan frowned.

"Shit, no! The freezer's still there, sonny boy! I've just enchanted the doorway to act as a gateway to _here_, too!"

Alan stopped turning and blinked at him. "And 'here' is...?"

Uncle Kirby rolled his eyes. "_Welcome to your brand spankin' new Wizard's Grotto,_" he repeated himself, slowly this time, as though explaining it to a particularly dull child. "_Surprise._"

He waved his wand, the tip flaring brightly one more time, and again Alan found himself blowing into a noisemaker as confetti and streamers burst around him.

"Pbbllfft!" Alan ripped the noisemaker out of his mouth, coughing and spitting out the confetti he'd accidentally inhaled through it. "Wizard's Grotto? What's a Wizard's Grotto?"

"Uh, a grotto for wizards?" Uncle Kirby said, as though this were the most obvious thing in the world. Then, off Alan's blank look, he added: "Look, it's like a hideout, kid. A secret place where you and your dad can do your wizard training, hidden away and safe from the rest of the world."

"Oh," Alan said, brow furrowing below his floppy hat as he processed this. "You mean like the Fortress of Solitude?"

Uncle Kirby shrugged. "I would have gone with the Batcave, myself, but sure. Whatever floats your boat."

"But Bruce Wayne's parents were already _dead_ by the time he started training to be the Batman, Uncle Kirby," Alan said, matter-of-factly, crossing his arms over his chest. "I mean, Clark Kent's were too, sure, but Jor-El's consciousness or whatever was in the crystals that built the fortress for him, and _they _taught him how to use his powers to become Superman..."

"Consciousness, sure, I'll take your word for it," Uncle Kirby said, sounding bored as he patted the air between then with both hands. Then, bending his arm and looking at the back of his left wrist, he gasped and bounded up out of the chair. "Oh, look at that! I'm late for my two o'clock!"

"You're not wearing a watch, Uncle Kirby," Alan pointed out. "And it's not even _one_ yet..."

"Yeah, well...wizards can time travel, and...and tell future time from the, uh...angle of the...shadows that the sun casts on—look, just trust me when I say I gotta go, huh?" Raising his wand in the air, he began to twirl it in a tight circle, then hesitated and looked down at Alan. "Hey, you're gonna be OK if I leave you in here alone, right kiddo?"

"Sure," Alan nodded, then grunted in frustration and pushed the hat out of his eyes when the top of it flopped down in front of him. "But can you do something about this stupid hat, first? Like, make it invisible or turn it into something _cool_, maybe?"

"Sorry, buddy, no can do," Uncle Kirby shook his head. "The hat's enchanted to _absorb_ magic. That's kind of the point of it. You'll only have to wear it for a couple days, though, just until you get the hang of your powers. So hang in there, kiddo. This too shall pass."

"Easy for you to say," Alan muttered under his breath. "You're not in third grade."

"Look, promise me you won't touch anything until your dad comes back, all right?" Uncle Kirby said, oblivious. "Some of this stuff can be pretty volatile if you don't know what you're doing, and I'd hate to get blamed if—I mean, I'd hate it if anything happened to you."

"I promise," Alan said, holding up his right hand in a three-fingered salute. "Scout's honor."

"Atta boy," Uncle Kirby grinned at him, as he raised his wand again. "Welcome to the family business, kiddo. You've got an exciting future ahead of you."

"Thanks, Uncle Kirby," Alan said, more by rote than out of any genuine gratitude. He'd been raised to be polite, after all.

"Anytime, little buddy. Say goodbye to your mom and dad for me. Adios, muchacho!"

The tip of Uncle Kirby's wand glowed brightly again—yellow-orange, this time. And then suddenly, with a flick of his wrist, he was gone, disappearing in a bright flash of light, with only the barest puff of smoke left behind. Alan stared at it until it faded away, then heaved a weary little sigh and climbed into his dad's old recliner. It was getting late, he knew. It was very nearly time for him to be heading back to school, and he hadn't even had his lunch, yet...but he'd just seen his uncle willfully evaporate himself for the first time. He needed a minute or two, here.

Reaching up, he felt for the velvet edge of the hat pressing against his forehead, hesitated for a moment, then shrugged slightly and tugged it off into his lap. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth and glanced uncertainly towards the ceiling, until it became apparent that the world _wasn't _about to end. Exhaling in relief, he ran his fingers back through his hair and began scrubbing at his scalp in about a half-dozen places at once. Not only was the hat sinfully ugly, but incessantly itchy as well.

Glancing around at all the mysterious books and trinkets that surrounded him as he scratched, Alan knew he should be overcome with wonder and curiosity. Jumping up and hurrying around excitedly to painstakingly examine each and every piece. (Just looking, of course, with his hands tucked firmly behind his back, because Uncle Kirby had told him not to touch anything, and Alan was nothing if not a good boy.) And, normally, he would have been. But as he sat there, in the huge, overstuffed recliner, with only his stupid hat for company, Alan was surprised to discover that he wasn't really in the mood. This should be the greatest day of his life—better, even, than when he'd seen the first movie trailer for _Episode I_—and all Alan wanted to do was curl into a ball and hide here for the rest of the afternoon. Sure, he was special now, just like he'd always wanted to be...but he'd never felt so _alone_.

Fortress of Solitude, indeed.

"I wish Julia was here," he murmured to himself, bringing his feet up into the chair, and hugging his knees to his chest.

And then, suddenly, Julia _was_ there, appearing before him with a bright flash of light.

"...think Lance is _way_ cuter than Justin, but Justin is a _much _more better danc—woah!" Julia gasped and stumbled backwards a step as she took in the sudden change in her surroundings. Her brown eyes darted rapidly around the room, wide with fear and confusion, until they finally landed on Alan, who had stood up on the recliner and was staring back, his shocked expression mirroring her own. "Alan? What the hell—?"

"UHHH, I WISH JULIA WASN'T HERE AFTER ALL!" Alan shouted, wrenching his eyes shut and clenching every single muscle in his little body as he willed it to happen. "I WISH SHE'D GO BACK TO SITTING WITH HAYLEY FINSTER IN THE HOAGIE HUB!"

"Alan, wait! Where the hell are w—?"

Alan opened his eyes, to see a small puff of smoke drifting in the air right where his little had been standing just a second ago. Had he done it? Had he managed to send her back? Or had he just...made her _vanish_?

Had...had he just accidentally _vaporized _his baby sister?


	5. Chapter 5

**-5-**

"Oh, _no!_" Alan cried, snatching the hat off the cushion of the recliner and jamming it onto the top of his head. Panicking, he leaped off the chair, tore across the floor of the Grotto towards the door, and jammed both hands against the metal push-bar. "Please don't let her be dead, please don't let her be dead, _please_ don't let her be—"

_"Augh!"_ Julia cried out, slamming face-first into the opening door of the cooler as she ran headlong into the kitchen from the Hoagie Hub. The force of it knocked her backwards, sending her skidding on her bottom across the dull linoleum floor. She reached up to grab her sore nose, and glared up at him over the back of her hand. "Ow! Alan, that _hurt!_"

"Sorry!" Alan gasped, pressing his back against the freezer door and slamming it shut with his body. He hurried over to Julia and grabbed her by her wrists, yanking her up onto her feet. "Sorry, sorry, sorry! I'm _so_ sorry! Are you OK? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"I just _said_ you did, penis-breath!"

"Hey! What's going on?" Dad asked, frowning over his shoulder at him from the sandwich-making station by the pass-through. Both kids looked up at him in surprise as they noticed for the first time that they weren't alone. Alan barely had time to register it before his sister had already extended a quivering bottom lip, and turned on her patented Julia Rubik Puppy Dog Eyes.

"Alan hit me in the face with the door, Daddy!" she cried. "And...and he did something _else_, too...I think."

"Not on _purpose_!" Alan said quickly, his voice raising an octave in his panic. "It was an accident!"

Realizing he wasn't just talking about the door, Dad grimaced and dropped down onto one knee in front of Julia. He placed both hands on her shoulders, holding her steady as he looked her up and down with concern. "What do you mean he did something else, Julia? What do you think he did?"

"He...I..." Julia furrowed her brow and exhaled sharply as she struggled to find the words for what had happened. "He _flashed _me!"

Dad blinked at her, then turned his head and cocked an eyebrow at his son. Alan flushed darkly beneath his hat, and began waving both hands at him in frantic denial.

"Nonono, I didn't! I _wouldn't_! That's not what she—"

"You did too, you big liar!" Julia growled. Turning to her father, she stuck her bottom lip out even further, and opened her eyes even wider. "I was eating lunch with Hayley, and then there was a big flash, like from a camera, but brighter. And then I was standing in some weird room with _him_—" she jabbed her index finger accusingly at Alan—"and it was full of books and bottles and all this strange _stuff_. And then he said he wished I wasn't there, and there was another big flash, and then I was sitting with Hayley again!"

"Ohhhhhhh, so _that's _what you mean," Dad sighed, chuckling as both his and Alan's shoulders sagged in relief. Shaking his head slightly, Dad patted Julia gently on the shoulder. "Honey, uh...no offense, but I think maybe you just imagined all this. You remember when we talked about what an active imagination you have, right?"

"I did _not!_" Julia whined, impatiently stomping her foot. "It really happened, Daddy! I don't know how he did it, but Alan totally flashed me!"

"Would you please quit _saying _that?" Alan hissed through his teeth, casting a nervous glance through the pass-through at the restaurant beyond. "The customers might hear you and think I'm some kind of pervert!"

"You _are_ a pervert! A big, stupid, funny-looking _pervert!_" Julia shot back, then blinked and looked up at her father. "Daddy, what's a pervert?"

"Uh...something we'll talk about when you're older," Dad said, as he got up off his knees. "Julia, think about it for a second: even if Alan did somehow have the magical power to fla—uh, I mean teleport you somewhere—he wasn't _in _a strange room with books and bottles and stuff, was he? Didn't you just see him come out of the vegetable cooler?"

"Well, yeah, but..." Julia pursed her lips to one side as she tried to work this out. "Maybe the weird room with the books and bottles and stuff is _in_ the cooler."

"A-HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Alan laughed, a great deal more loudly than was absolutely necessary, smiling so widely and so stiffly that it felt as though his face might actually crack from the effort. He took an ever-so-subtle step to the right, interposing himself between his sister and the cooler door. "That's crazy-talk, Julia! Isn't that crazy, Dad? Tell her how crazy it is. Go ahead, tell her. _Tell her tell her tell her!_"

"Uh...yeah, it's pretty crazy, all right," Dad sighed, eying Alan as though he'd suddenly grown a second head. "And not at all suspicious in any way, all evidence to the contrary."

But Julia wasn't convinced. Narrowing her eyes at Alan, chin stuck out in determination, she stepped forward and shoved him out of the way. Wrapped both of her little hands around the door handle, she braced both heels on the floor, and yanked with all the might her five year old form could muster.

"NO, WAIT! I CAN EXPLAIN!" Alan shouted as the big door swung open...

...only to reveal the cramped interior of the Hoagie Hub's vegetable cooler, looking very much the same as it always had, for as long as either of them could remember. Julia blinked at it, then turned and frowned at her brother. "Explain _what?_"

"Uhhhhhhhh...explain...why I...had to move...the green olives...to a different shelf than the...uh, black ones," Alan stammered. "They, um, weren't getting along...on account of the fact that the green ones are...uh, racist."

Julia stared at him blankly for a second, then looked up at her father, one eyebrow raised.

"Olive-on-olive violence," Dad nodded sagely. "It's always been an issue."

"How come Alan's allowed in the freezer now?" Julia challenged him, a petulant edge to her voice. "You always say it's off-limits. That we can't play in there."

"I wasn't _playing_, Julia!" Alan snapped automatically, before Dad could answer. "I was...uh..."

He trailed off as Julia spun to glare at him expectantly.

"Helping," Dad supplied. "Alan's old enough to help out around the kitchen, now. He's going to be spending a lot of time in the freezer after school from now on...um...keeping the olive situation under control."

"So he's doing...like..._chores?_" Julia asked slowly, pronouncing the last word as though it were some kind of communicable disease.

"Exactly," Dad nodded, then gestured through the door into the cooler. "And see? No books, no bottles, no weird stuff. Just the same, boring old cooler, same as it's always been. You're not missing out on anything cool, I promise...although, if you really do feel left out, I'm sure your mom and I can find _something_ for you to..."

"Nonono, that's OK!" Julia said, quickly pushing the cooler door shut again, lest something else in there should give him any funny ideas that might cut into her cartoon-watching time. Having to spend every morning in kindergarten now was bad enough as it was. "I'm good!"

"All right, honey, if you're sure..." Dad smiled, and winked at Alan. "Why don't you head on back out and join your little friend now, huh?"

"OK, Daddy," Julia nodded. She ran for the swinging door, the soles of her Converse squeaking against the dull linoleum, but paused as she pushed it open with both hands and turned to glare over her shoulder at Alan.

"You don't fool me, Alan. I can _tell_ you're lying," she said, bitterly. "I _know _what you did, even if Daddy doesn't believe me."

Alan blanched under her gaze, and shook his head. "Julia, I—"

"Stay away from me, weirdo," she growled, loud enough for the entire restaurant to hear, with an evil little smile on her face. "I mean it. 'Cause if you ever flash me like that again, I'm gonna tell..._pervert!_"

_"Julia—!"_Alan and Dad both hissed in the same breath, but Julia just giggled and ran back out into the Hoagie Hub, towards the streetcar. And as the door swung back and forth in her wake, Alan could already make out the whispers of the older kids just beyond it. He groaned, and reached up to press the heels of his hands into his eyes, feeling his cheeks begin to burn with embarrassment. As if the Barney incident and the stupid hat hadn't been bad enough. By recess it would be all over school that Alan Rubik had shown his hoohoo to his baby sister. Terrific.

"Well," Dad sighed, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "looks like we're probably due for another visit from Child Services. But on the bright side, I think your sister will stay away from the cooler for now, as long as she believes there's chores involved. And it sounds like you're starting to get the hang of your powers...but you're gonna have to be more careful from now on, Alan. No taking the hat off anymore until I say you're ready. Got it?"

Alan nodded glumly. "Couldn't we have just told her, Dad? I _hate_ lying to her like that. You heard her, I'm no good at it."

"That's because you're a good big brother, Alan," Dad said, giving his shoulder a squeeze. "I know it's hard, but it's for her own good, really. She'll understand someday, you'll see."

"If you say so, Dad," Alan sighed, watching the top of Julia's head through the streetcar window again. He just hoped that she'd still be speaking to him if and when that day ever came.


	6. Chapter 6

**-6-**

When he'd first placed the power-dampening hat on his head, Dad had told Alan it would only be for a few days. A week, at most. That two or three beginner's wizard lessons would be all he needed to get enough of a handle on his new powers that he'd be able to manage them on his own. But here they were, over a week and eight wizard lessons later, and he was still no closer to controlling his magic than he'd been the day he'd breathed fire and made it rain in the basement.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, buddy," Dad said, after Alan had broken down in tears of frustration on the ninth day. "Your powers came in super-early, remember, and it takes a lot of focus to control them. Heck, I was almost eleven when mine finally kicked in, and even I had a heck of a time. It just might take you a little longer, that's all. Hang in there."

Oh, sure. Hang in there. No problem. It wasn't like the hat—or the whole wizard thing in general—was making his life a living hell, or anything.

Julia still wouldn't walk to or from school with him. In fact, ever since he'd accidentally "flashed" her into the grotto and back, she'd refused to be seen in public with him altogether. Meanwhile, Hayley Finster—who Julia used to mock mercilessly behind her back for the strange way her mother dressed her—had become such a regular fixture around the Rubik household that it was almost like she'd started living with them. She was there first thing in the morning, before the Rubiks had even finished breakfast. She followed Julia home for lunch every day, forcing Alan to relinquish control of the TV remote to her (and therefore Julia, who just told her to put on _TRL_ anyway), because that's what a polite host did. And she was _still _there every afternoon when Alan returned to the Hoagie Hub after school, sitting at the counter, whispering and giggling with Julia as they stared at him, until he retreated through the freezer door into the Wizard's Grotto beyond.

The ninth day hadn't been the first time he'd cried. It had just been the first time he'd let anyone see it. Because that was the afternoon—after yet another long day of having other kids point and laugh, try to steal his stupid hat, and call him _Barney the Pervert Dinosaur_—that Julia and Hayley had finally stopped whispering, and let him in on what they'd been whispering _about_. Sitting side-by-side at the counter as he'd entered the Hoagie Hub, grinning at him and tittering in anticipation, they'd waited until he'd passed them and headed into the kitchen before they spun around on their stools and burst into song at the tops of their lungs:

_"What's that?  
>A hat?<br>Crazy, floppy, sloppy hat  
>Woke up late, hair all amuck<br>Tryin' to look like Darkwing Duck  
>We've been there, we've done that<br>We see right through your floppy hat!"_

Alan had cringed at the laughter and applause that had rippled through the Hoagie Hub in response, ensuring once and for all that they'd repeat it every time they him from now on, because there was nothing Julia loved more than being the center of attention. But it was Hayley he _really_ blamed as being responsible. (Because, really..."Hair all amuck"? No way Julia came up with that on her own. Her vocabulary wasn't nearly that good.) Though he'd always felt a little sorry for her, up until now—viewed her as a bit of a kindred spirit even, a fellow outcast—at the moment, he kind of hated her a little. OK, a _lot_. If only because coming up with clever insults for Julia to use was supposed to be _his _job...

Stupid wizard powers. What did they have to come in so early for? Like he hadn't been different enough, already?

Sitting all alone in the Wizard's Grotto as he waited for Dad to finish with the after-school rush, Alan sank back into the dusty, overstuffed recliner and trembled with anger and humiliation. He oh-so-wanted to rip the stupid hat right off his stupid head, throw it away and spit flame all around him until all the stupid, creepy stuff in the grotto was burnt to ash and his stupid powers were all blown out of him. Then he could just forget he'd ever had them, everything could go back to normal, and Julia would _like_ him again.

But he didn't. He couldn't. Because twice already he'd put his baby sister in danger when he'd let loose with his power, and he didn't dare risk it a third time.

And so, caught between a rock and a hard place, Alan had hunched forward in the chair, stared down at his father's battered old copy of _Magic and You! An Introductory Spell Book for Novice Wizards_, and sobbed his little heart out, instead. Which is how Dad found him when the after-school rush finally ended, twenty minutes later.

"But I don't _understand_, Dad!" Alan whined, kicking at the low table on which the spell book sat. "The first lesson is just lighting up a stupid candle! The third is levitating a teensy little pebble! _I've breathed fire and teleported my little sister through walls! _And I did those without a wand, or even saying any spells! Why can I do the big stuff, but I _suck_ at the little stuff?"

"You don't _suck _at it, son," Dad said. "You're just letting your impatience get the better of you, and it's getting in the way of your ability to focus. It's like your grandpa always told me: the pegasus colt has to learn how to stand and walk before he can fly. You just have to calm down, and—"

"Calm down?" Alan growled. "Are you kidding me? I'm a freak of nature! Everyone at school is making fun of me! Julia _hates_ me now! And you want me to _calm down_?"

"Yes," Dad said, firmly but not unkindly. "Because it's not going to work otherwise, Alan. I understand that you're upset, and I know how difficult it is for you to just relax and let go at the best of times, but the only way that we're going to get through this is if you stop feeling sorry for yourself, man up a little, and learn to _calm down and focus_, OK? Now, sit down."

Alan blinked at him, surprised by his father's tone. He took a deep, shuddering breath, then nodded slightly and seated himself on the edge of the recliner.

"Attaboy," Dad smiled. "Now close your eyes, and just concentrate on breathing in and out. I don't want you to think about anything or anyone else. _Especially_ not your sister. Just breathe."

Alan nodded again and did as he was told, allowing his eyelids to slide shut as he turned all his attention to the rise and fall of his chest, the sensation of his breath passing back and forth through his nostrils as he inhaled and exhaled, banishing all other thoughts from his mind.

"Good," Dad said after a few minutes, then grabbed hold of the end of Alan's stupid floppy hat and pulled it slowly off his head. Alan actually jumped in his seat a little, startled, so focused on his breathing that he'd forgotten his father was even there. "Now, keep breathing, and without opening your eyes, I want you to picture the candle in your mind. Can you do that for me?"

"OK," Alan murmured. His forehead puckered beneath his stupid floppy hat as his eyebrows came together in concentration.

"Right, that's it," Dad said quietly, his voice moving from right to left as he walked around the back of the recliner. "Keep that image in your mind's eye. Imagine the candle sitting in its holder, right down to the smallest detail. Picture every little blob of wax on the side, and the little black scorch mark where the flame burned the top of the wick."

"I see it," Alan said, his eyes wrenched shut, his voice just above a whisper.

"Very good, son," Dad said, his voice almost right in Alan's ear as he crouched down next to the recliner. "Now I want you to really concentrate on the wick, focus everything you have on that black little scorch mark. And when you're ready, when you don't think you can possibly focus on it any harder, I want you to slowly and patiently say the—"

_"Flame be nimble, flame be quick, flame light up my candle stick!"_

Dad snorted then, a little impatiently, then sighed and laid a hand on Alan's shoulder. "All right, why don't you take a look?"

His brow still furrowed, Alan slowly opened first one eye, then the other, then leaned forward with his elbows on his knees as he stared at the candle on the low table before him, next to the beginner's spell book.

"No flame," he groaned, shoulders sagging with disappointment. "It didn't light."

"No, but do you see that tiny bit of smoke in the air above it?" Dad asked, pointing to the faint, fading white wisp as it curled into the air and disappeared. "That was all you, buddy. Good job."

"_Good job? _Are you kidding me? That's pathetic!"

"No, it's a start."

"It's a _pathetic_ start!"

"Hey, it's the best we've done so far,isn't it?" Dad smiled. "Baby steps, baby steps. Gotta stand and walk before you can fly, remember. Ready to try it again?"

He was. In fact, Alan tried it six more times over the rest of the afternoon, fighting to keep his frustration in check and all thoughts of Jul—of _everything else_ out of his head. And though he never managed better than causing the tip of the candle's wick to flare brightly for a couple seconds, Dad still grinned proudly and pounded him on the back as though he'd lit up Rockefeller Center on Christmas Eve with just the power of his mind.

"All right, Alan, I think that's enough for now," he smiled, as he handed the floppy hat back to him. "Good work, son. You've made some real progress today."

Alan frowned at the hat, turning it over in his hands, not quite ready to put it back on yet. "I did? How do you figure? I didn't even light it once!"

"Not yet, maybe, but we're getting close," Dad said. "You're in the right head-space for it, now. Don't you think?"

"Sure, if you say so," Alan shrugged, without looking up. He wasn't sure what being in the right head-space was supposed to feel like, exactly, but he was pretty sure this wasn't it.

"Hey, trust me. By this time next week, you'll have it down cold."

"Next _week_?" Alan groaned in protest. "You mean I have to wear this stupid thing for _a whole seven more days_?"

"Hey!" Dad lifted one hand and pointed at Alan. "What did I say about feeling sorry for yourself? Remember, you're doing this to protect the people you love. Does Clark Kent whine about having to wear glasses and act nerdy all the time?"

Chastened, Alan lowered his head and stared back down at the hat.

"No," he murmured sullenly. "He does it without complaining, because it's the right thing to do. And that means I should, too."

"Exactly," Dad nodded, lowering his hand to Alan's shoulder. "Look, I know it's no fun, buddy. Your Uncle Kirby and I hated it, too. But it's just a few more days. Then you won't need it any more, and you'll have the rest of your life to enjoy your powers. Well, at least until—"

Alan's head came up again as his father broke off in mid-sentence. "Until...?"

"Nothing," Dad said, waving one hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, for now. We'll talk about it when you're older."

Alan fought the urge to groan and roll his eyes at that. Gah, why was it everything about this had to wait until they were _older_? He wanted to share magic with Julia _now._

"Let's head back upstairs, huh?" Dad said, breaking into his thoughts. "Dinner ought to be ready, soon. Your mom's making her famous 'call to the Chinese take-out place down the street.'"

"I'll come up in a minute," Alan said, leaning forward to pluck _Magic and You!_up off the table. "I just want to take another look at the spell, first. I'm still not sure I'm saying it right."

Dad smiled at him, then nodded and started to head towards the freezer door. "All right, but make sure you put your hat back on before you leave the Grotto, OK? Last thing we need is a blizzard in the Hoagie Hub."

"I promise, Dad," Alan nodded, opening the book and flipping to the first lesson. He heard the squeak of the hinges as the door swung open, then closed again with a solid _ka-chunk_, leaving him all alone once again. Heaving a sigh that seemed to come from the soles of his shoes, he propped his elbow on his knee, rested his chin in his hand, and stared blearily at the candle.

_"Flame be nimble, flame be quick, flame light up my candle stick."_

Nope, nothing. Not even a puff of smoke, that time. Argh.

Shaking his head, Alan slammed the book shut in his lap, then stood up and tossed it onto the table, next to the candle. Turning his back on them, he snatched the hat up off the arm of the recliner and examined it glumly as he headed for the door. At least one more week of loneliness and ridicule to look forward to, and that was only assuming he could actually get the spell right by the end of it. Or that Julia would actually start hanging around with him again once he did. She tended to get bored with things quickly, after all. Her favorite toy had always been the latest one, and it only remained her favorite until she'd been given the_ next_ new shiny. And stupid Hayley Finster was a _lot_ newer and shinier to her than the lame big brother she'd been following around since she'd been old enough to crawl...

No way, a week was _way_ too long. He needed to get the spell right sooner. He_ had_ to.

"_Flame be nimble, flame be quick, flame light up my candlestick_," he murmured to himself, as he pushed open the door that led out of the grotto into the kitchen. "It's so simple! Why can't i get it right? _Flame be nimble, flame be quick, flame light up my candle stick_..."

Repeating it to himself over and over, he reluctantly tugged and headed back out into the real world, letting the door swing shut behind him.

It wasn't until he returned to he grotto again the next afternoon after school that he noticed the candle was almost two-thirds shorter than it had been the day before. The candle holder beneath, and the cover of _Magic and You!_ next to it, were spotted with globs of hardened, melted wax, as though the candle had been lit and left to burn the whole night through. Dad asked him how it happened, but Alan had no clue. To him, it was a Scooby-Doo mystery.


	7. Chapter 7

**-7-**

Two days later, still dressed in his Captain Jim Bob Sherwood pajamas, anti-magic hat firmly planted on his head, Alan rested his chin in his hand and stared down into his oatmeal. He stirred it absently as he pretended to ignore Julia and Hayley as they argued about who was the best Powerpuff Girl. (Hayley was firmly in Bubbles' corner, but Julia insisted that, being the toughest fighter, Buttercup was _way _awesomer.)

"Awesomer isn't a word, Julia," Alan said without looking up, unable to resist the urge to correct her, especially where superheroes were concerned. "Besides, they're all just little-girl copies of Superman, anyway..."

Julia looked at him blankly, then turned back to Hayley. "Did you hear something, Hayley? I thought it sounded like some lame dork was trying to talk to us, but there's nobody else here."

"Julia..." Hayley frowned, then turned to beam at Alan. "_I_ think Superman is very cool."

"Pfft, Superman's way too goody-goody," Julia scoffed. "Buttercup could totally kick his ass."

"Hey!" Mom snapped from across the table, pointing at her with the spoonful of oatmeal she'd been trying in vain to get into Sam's mouth for the last five minutes. "What have we said about using that word?"

"But it's _true_, Momma! Superman's such a goody-goody that he won't even _hit _a girl!"

"That's because Superman is one of the last true gentlemen," Mom said, smiling at Alan. "Just like your big brother."

Alan flushed a little with pride beneath the floppy brim of his hat, and turned his head slightly to the side, watching Julia out of the corner of his eye to see what she'd make of that. She looked from Mom to Alan and back again, then shrugged one shoulder.

"Big deal," she said flatly. "Just makes it easier for Buttercup to kick his—"

"Knock it off!" Mom yelled, then stood up and handed the spoon to Julia. "Here, you girls watch Sam for a few minutes, OK? Try to get him to eat something. Alan, come with me for a minute."

Alan and Julia both blinked up at her in surprise. "But I haven't finished my breakfast yet," he protested.

"You can finish after," Mom replied. "C'mon, I have something to show you."

Despite all that had happened between them over the past couple of weeks, Alan and Julia automatically exchanged looks of apprehension as he pushed back away from the table, and followed their mother towards the black spiral staircase. Julia had never been left in charge before, not even for a few minutes. That had always been Alan's job, as long as either of them could remember. Something akin to panic was spreading across Julia's features as Alan disappeared out of sight up the stairs. As if sensing her uneasiness at the prospect, Hayley leaned over and gently pried the spoon out of Julia's hand, then stood up and held it out to Sam, making high-pitched 'coochie-coo' noises as she tried to coax him into opening up.

Having reached the top of the staircase, Alan followed his mother down the hall to his parents' bedroom. She gestured for him to take a seat on the end of their double bed as she opened the closet and began rummaging around.

"Alan, sweetie, I don't pretend to understand any of this magic stuff you're going through,' she said over her shoulder. "That's always been your dad's territory. Oh, he's tried to explain things to, here and there, but to be honest it all still sounds like make-believe to me. I have a hard time wrapping my head around it. So I'm sorry if I haven't been much help to you the past few days."

"That's OK, Mom," Alan said, genuinely meaning it. Dad had warned him that Mom didn't exactly have the greatest attitude towards magic, that it was all still pretty new to her and that he'd have to give her time to warm up to the idea of her baby being a wizard. All the more reason for him to get the hang of his magic, already, and lose the stupid hat so that things could get back to normal around here.

"I can tell it's been hard on you, though, _mijo_. And all that superhero talk at breakfast reminded me of something," she continued, smiling as she finally found what she was looking for. She withdrew it from the closet, closed the door, and turned to face him. "Here. I got these for you, to cheer you up. Sort of a 'wizard coming of age' present, I guess."

"Wow! Thanks Mom!" Alan grinned as he accepted the Macy's bag from her. He eagerly yanked it open and peered into it, then blinked and frowned back up at his mother. "Uh...you got me underwear?"

"Under-_roos_, honey!" Mom said, taking the bag back from him and pulling out the package. "See? It's underwear that's _fun _to wear!"

"Oh...great...," Alan said uncertainly, feeling his cheeks begin to burn. He hoped Julia hadn't sneaked upstairs to eavesdrop at the door, as she was often wont to do. She'd have a field day with this, if she'd heard.

"Your dad told me what you two talked about, keeping your powers under wraps like Superman," Mom explained, as she tore open the package. She unfolded the royal blue undershirt and held it out to him. "And I thought it would make you feel more like him to wear these under your clothes, just like Clark Kent!"

Alan eyed the five-sided, red and yellow S-shield on the front of the shirt dubiously. On the one hand, getting caught wearing Underoos over the age of four was like issuing an open invitation for wedgies, swirlies and Indian burns to the world at large. And, thanks to Julia and this stupid hat, he was _already _enough of a target, thankyouverymuch.

On the other hand, though, it _could_ be kinda cool...

"What do you think,_ mijo_?" Mom asked, her eyes shining as she held up the shirt and little red underpants in either hand. "Do you like them? Want to wear them to school today?"

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Alan silently weighed his options, and decided he really didn't have any. He didn't want to hurt his mother's feelings after all, especially not when she was obviously trying so hard to make things better for him. Besides, it's not like he was going to show the whole world his underwear, right? And it really _would _be kinda cool...

Before he could answer, a loud crash erupted from downstairs, drawing both of their attention towards the door.

"Julia!" Mom called down. "What was that? Is everything OK down there?"

"Uh...sure it is, Momma," Julia replied faintly, after a second. "Listen, you don't, um, _love_ that blue lamp in the living room all that much, do you?"


	8. Chapter 8

**-8-**

Standing alone on the playground, waiting for the bell to ring, Alan adjusted his floppy hat with one hand, and scratched his chest with the other. The back of the Superman logo on his undershirt was stiff and scratchy, threatening to rub his nipples raw. And though it was more than a little annoying, it was kind of a nice reminder that it was there, too...especially after the morning he'd had so far.

Julia had gotten into _big_ trouble over the lamp, even though it was Sam who'd actually thrown the bowl of oatmeal across the room that had broken it. After demanding to know why she couldn't keep her baby brother under control for five minutes, Mom had told Julia that she wasn't allowed to have any friends over before or after school for the rest of the week...then had to backpedal and spend five minutes consoling Hayley after _she'd_ burst into tears. Instead, she forbade Julia from watching television until Monday, at which point Julia had turned and fixed Alan with a resentful glare.

"This," she'd declared a few minutes later, as the two of them hurriedly cleaned up the remnants of the lamp, "is all your fault."

"My fault?" Alan had paused in the middle of sweeping up the debris, and frowned at her. "How is this my fault? _You_ were the one in charge. I wasn't even in the room!'

"Exactly," Julia had sneered at him over the dustpan she was barely bothering to hold steady. "If _you_ hadn't been upstairs with Mom, _she_ wouldn'ta put _me_ charge of feeding Sam. And then I wouldn'ta let _Hayley_ do it for me, which means _she_ wouldn'ta screwed up and let _Sam_ get his hands on the bowl, so _he_ could throw it and make _me_ look bad."

Alan had frowned at that, his lips moving silently as he replayed what she'd just said over again in his head. "Sounds to me like you're blaming everybody but yourself, Julia."

"Not everybody," Julia had shot back, as Alan had swept the last few pieces into the dustpan. "Just you."

Alan sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets, if only to keep them off his chest, which was starting to feel hot and prickly from all the scratching. Across the playground, Hayley ran full tilt in and around the monkey bars, arms splayed wide behind her as she pretended to fly, while Julia sat perched upon them with her legs dangling, watching her. Every so often, Julia would point at some invisible enemy, and Hayley would charge towards them, howling at the top of her lungs, arms pinwheeling like mad.

_"HAAAAUUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHH!"_

"OK, OK! Those are all dead, now!" Julia called to her, looking down at the sand around her and nodding decisively as she pretended to dust off her hands. Then, eyes wide, she pointed off to Hayley's left. "Oh, but look out, Bubbles! There's three more bad guys over there!"

"But Juli—I mean, Buttercup!" Hayley huffed, resting her hands on her knees as she gasped for air. "What about you? If you're the toughest fighter, shouldn't you be down here, too? Y'know..._fighting?_"

"Oh, uh...I'm watching out for the bad guys that sneak up here," Julia said, then looked to her right, reached up and threw a lackadaisical punch. "See? That dude had a big gun and was gonna shoot you, but I took him out with one punch."

"Oh, wow!" Delighted, Hayley jumped up and down, raising both fists above her head. "ONE PUNCH! ONE PUNCH!"

"Now hurry up and get those six other guys, while I watch!"

"YOU GOT IT, BUTTERCUP! HAAAAAUUUUUUGGGGHHHHH!"

Wearing a self-satisfied smirk, Julia leaned back on the monkey bars and swung her legs happily as Hayley rampaged around her, like her own personal guided missile. Watching them, Alan couldn't help the flare of jealousy that burned in the pit of his stomach, matching the prickly heat spreading across his chest. Just a short while ago, that would have been him over there: Captain Jim Bob Sherwood zipping to and fro about the cosmos on his rocket pack, fighting off the evil alien cattle rustlers while Jessica Moon kept watch on board the farmship _Old MacDonald_, alerting him to their presence as they dropped out of pseudo-space.

(Mom had worried about that for awhile when they were younger, the way Julia never ran and jumped herself, but just sat there while she directed Alan to do it. She'd spent one entire summer dragging Julia to about a half-dozen pediatric specialists all over the city, looking for the cause, but every single test had come back completely clean. It wasn't until that last doctor had gently diagnosed her as completely healthy, but with an acute case of lazy bones coupled with a tendency towards chronic bossiness, that Mom had finally stopped looking. Julia would run and jump in her own time, she decided, and hopefully there wouldn't be a police pursuit involved when she did.)

Heaving a sigh, Alan tilted his head forward, the top of the hat flopping forward to cover his face as he tucked his chin into his chest. He stared at the toes of his shoes for a moment, until they started to blur, then closed his eyes and willed himself not to cry. Clearly, it was too late. He hadn't mastered his magic and gotten rid of the stupid hat in time. Julia had replaced him—with stupid Hayley Finster, of all people—because she was embarrassed to be seen with him, and couldn't trust him anymore. And by the time he'd finally be allowed to explain everything to her, she'd have forgotten all about him. He'd still be her big brother, sure-that would never change, as much as she might want it to-but he wouldn't be her best friend, anymore.

And he'd be all alone, without her. Studying magic, all by himself, in Uncle Kirby's crummy Wizard's Grotto. His stupid Fortress of Solitude.

Alan choked back a sob as the tears he couldn't hold back anymore finally spilled over onto his cheeks. His pulse thudding painfully in the twin lumps that had suddenly appeared on either side of his throat. He shook his head, feeling lost and confused and stupid. Julia was playing not ten yards away from him, but still he missed her with every fiber of his being. It was the easily worst he'd ever felt in his entire life. And no secret powers, no magic spell, no underwear that's fun to wear, could possibly make it better. Nothing could.

"ALAN!" Hayley shouted across the playground. "HELP! JULIA NEEDS YOU!"

Well, except possibly that.

Raising his head in surprised, Alan flipped the top of the floppy hat away from his face, and quickly swiped his sleeve across his face to erase the evidence that he'd been crying. He blinked as he took in the scene before him. Hayley was running towards him in a panic, eyes wide and frightened. Beyond her, Julia was standing on top of the monkey bars, arms crossed and chin jut out in defiance as she stared down an unfamiliar blonde girl who glared back with her hands on her hips.

"What's going on?" Alan sniffled as Hayley reached him, grabbed his arm and started tugging. "Who's that girl Julia's talking to?"

"Uh, Fifi Worthingholl, only the meanest girl in kindergarten?" Hayley said, as though he should already know this. "Julia's arch-enemy?"

Alan cocked an eyebrow at her. "Julia has an arch-enemy? Since when?"

"Duh, since two weeks ago! Fifi spilled juice on her blanket during nap time and told everybody she _peed_ on it! _Everybody's_ been talking about it. Where have _you_ been?"

Alan frowned at her, his cheeks burning beneath the wide brim of his hat, embarrassed. While he didn't exactly make it a point to keep up on what gossip was making the rounds in junior kindergarten, it _was _exactly the sort of thing a good big brother should have known. But he'd been so wrapped up in his own problems...

"Knock if off, Fifi!" Julia shouted then. Hayley and Alan both looked up to see her teetering uncertainly on the edge of the monkey bars, before she took a step forward and righted herself. "Stop shoving me!"

"I _told_ you what would happen if I caught you up here again, Julia!" Fifi snarled at her. "_I_ am queen of the playground! Only _I_ am allowed to sit at the top of the monkey bars!"

"And I told _you_ that you don't _own_ the playground," Julia growled, taking another step forward. "Hayley and I can play wherever we want. And you can't stop us..._bitch_."

Standing next to him, Hayley gasped at Julia's use of the 'b' word, but Alan just rolled his eyes. Clearly she'd been watching soap operas on the sly in the afternoons, when their parents were busy in the Hoagie Hub, again.

Fifi narrowed her eyes at Julia, and balled her hands into fists at her sides. "I mean it, Julia. Get _down._"

"Go ahead and _make_ me," Julia said, an evil little smirk spreading across her features, "_Josephine._"

Fifi's eyes went wide with rage. Rearing back, she raised both hands and shoved Julia as hard as she could. And even though Julia had been expecting it, had braced herself against it, Fifi was the taller of the two girls, and Julia's perch on the monkey bars was too precarious for it to do much good. Arms pinwheeling, she stumbled backwards first one step, then a second...

...or _would_ have, if there had been anything left behind her to step on.

Her face went white with shock beneath her brown pigtails as she tumbled off the jungle gym into mid-air, screaming _"A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N!"_

Alan's blood ran to ice water in his veins as everything seemed to slow to a crawl around him. He wasn't close enough to catch her. There wasn't time enough to run. So he did the only thing he could, made the only choice there was to make. Alan reached up to whip the floppy, anti-magic hat off his head, wrenched his eyes shut, clenched every muscle in his little body...

...and then he felt his stomach lurch as gravity seemed to rearrange itself around him, and he opened his eyes to find himself falling through the air in slow motion, away from the monkey bars and a shocked-looking Fifi. He had just long enough time to turn his head and catch sight of Julia across the playground, standing next to Hayley where _he'd _been standing only seconds before...

(Well, _that_ was certainly unexpected. Not at all what he'd _meant_ to do. Stupid, unpredictable magic.)

...and then time sped itself up again, and Alan slammed into the ground with a dull thud.

The sand surrounding the monkey bars absorbed most of the impact, but he landed badly, with his left arm pinned under him at an awkward angle. His elbow drove itself up into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him and preventing him from crying out in pain even as white-hot needles of agony tore through his shoulder. Lungs burning, shoulder throbbing, he rolled around on the sand gasping for breath like a beached whale. He was only vaguely aware of others moving towards him, around him, reaching towards him. One pair of arms hooked themselves under his armpits, trying to pull him to his feet, and Alan screamed as white fire lanced through his shoulder again. Flailing, he twisted away, dropping like a stone back to the ground, and bashing his head against the monkey bars on the way down, hard.

There was a jagged flash of pain, and brief moment of nausea, followed by the sensation of falling. And then Julia dropped to her knees on the sand beside him, her wide brown eyes searching his, his floppy hat clutched in one hand, the rest of his clothes clutched in the other.

(Wait, his clothes? That didn't make sense. What was she doing holding his clothes? Why wasn't he _wearing _them?)

But before he could open his mouth to ask, darkness crept in around the edges of his vision, and swallowed him whole. The last thing he heard, before the world went blissfully silent, was Julia screaming his name.


	9. Chapter 9

**-9-**

"...dislocated his shoulder, and he probably gave himself a mild concussion when he hit his head on the monkey bars," Dad's voice said into the blackness, though it seemed as if his voice were coming from a million miles away, "but Kirby was able to manage both, no problem. He said Alan should be good as new by the time he comes around."

"I'd feel better if we had him checked out by an actual doctor," Mom's voice said then. "Don't take this the wrong way, Terry, but the idea of trusting your brother, of all people, with healing our son—"

"Oh, trust me, I get it," Dad broke in. "But if there's one thing Kirby knows how to do, it's how to patch somebody up after they've had a bad spill. You don't run into Genghis Khan as many times as he has without learning to cast a decent field triage spell. In fact, our mom always said he could've been a medic in the Emergency Wizard Corps, if he'd just applied himself."

Mom snorted, that way she did when she didn't buy was Dad was selling, but wasn't willing to start a fight over it. "I still think the school should have called an ambulance."

"We're actually lucky they called us first, if you think about it," Dad said. "If Alan had been taken to the ER, there'd be records of his injuries, and tons of witnesses to worry about. We'd have had no choice but to let him heal naturally. This way, we can slap a few band-aids on him, send him back to school on Monday, and just say the fall looked worse than it was.'

"Really? And you honestly think people will believe that?"

"No offense, honey, but you'd be amazed what mortals will let themselves believe. As long as the explanation is even halfway plausible, they'll gladly swallow it hook, line and sinker. Heck, they'll even fill in all the little details for you that you hadn't even thought of. People _want_ everything to stay normal. Different scares them too much."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Mom said wryly.

"But I don't wanna be different. I wanna be normal."

Alan realized with a start that the last voice he'd heard speaking was his, that he'd said what he was thinking out loud without intending do. Forcing his eyes open, he was surprised to find himself lying on the orange couch in the living room, with his parents standing to either side, looking down at him with a mixture of relief and concern. He tried to sit up, only to have his mother crouch down beside him and rest a restraining hand in the middle of his chest.

"Easy, _mijo_. Just relax. You've had a bit of a rough morning."

"But, Julia...!" Alan protested. "Is she—?"

"Your sister's just fine," Dad said, with a reassuring smile. "Worried sick about you—heck, we all were—but otherwise fine."

"Julia was...worried about me?" Alan asked, blinking in surprise. That didn't sound very much like the Julia he knew. Usually when he fell down, she pointed and laughed. And that was even _before _she'd started hating him for wearing the stupid hat.

Augh, the hat! Hands flailing, he reached up to feel the top of his head, and made a noise that was somewhere between a relieved sigh and a disappointed groan when his fingertips brushed against it.

"It's there, _mijo_, don't worry," Mom grinned. "Your sister had the presence of mind to grab it and put it on you after you hit your head and knocked yourself out."

"What I don't understand, though, is _why _she did it," Dad said, narrowing his eyes a little. "She seemed to think it was awfully important that you be wearing it. She practically threw a fit when they tried to lift you up and bring you into the school without making sure you had it on, first. You didn't tell her what it was for, did you?"

Alan shook his head. "I told her you said I had to wear it, but I didn't say why."

"You're _sure_?" Dad pressed. "You really didn't tell your sister about magic?"

"No! I mean, I wanted to, but you said I couldn't, so..." Alan frowned, and looked up at his mother, puzzled. "Why _did_ she put it on me, then? Why didn't she try to hide it, or throw it away, or something? She almost hates this stupid thing more than I do!"

Mom chuckled as she gently stroked her thumb back and forth along his collarbone. "Maybe she just loves you more, sweetie."

Alan snorted and looked away from her, towards the ceiling. "Doubt it."

"Want to explain how the hat came off in the first place?" Dad asked, although it came out more like an order than a question.

"The principal said it sounded like you'd been fighting with some little girl from Julia's class," Mom said with a frown, before Alan could answer. "That's not like you. What happened?"

Still looking up at the ceiling, Alan took a deep breath and let it out slowly, as a wave of guilt and dread overcame him, making him feel sick to his stomach. He knew they'd be disappointed in him when he told them, angry that he'd broken the rules. But he didn't dare lie to them. Captain Jim Bob Sherwood didn't lie. Superman didn't lie. And that meant Alan couldn't, either.

"Julia was in trouble, Mom," he began. "That other girl was picking on her, trying to push her off the monkey bars. I _had _to do something, before she got hurt..."

Mom and Dad exchanged glances over top of him, and from years of experience, Alan recognized the look: they'd been confirming something Julia had told them. Apparently their stories matched for once, though, because his parents simply nodded to each other, and broke into matching grins. And even though that wasn't the _whole_ story—he hadn't gotten to the part about using magic without permission yet, after all, in front of Fifi and Hayley and the entire playground—a certain little voice inside him told him to keep his mouth shut, that maybe he'd told just _enough _of the truth for now.

_"So it's like I'm Superman, and Julia is Lois Lane,"_Mom recited, as though it were the most adorable thing she'd ever heard.

"Told you, didn't I?" Dad said. "Those were his exact words."

Alan blinked as both of them looked back down at him, their eyes shining with...pride? Amusement? The feeling of guilty dread that had been pressing on the pit of his stomach gradually began to dissipate as he realized—with more than a little confusion—that they actually seemed _happy_ about what he'd done.

"Am...am I in trouble, or not?" he asked, not trusting it.

"No, son, you're not in trouble." Smiling at him, Dad shook his head slightly, then reached down and poked him in the chest with his index finger. "We weren't expecting you to be so literal about the whole superhero thing, though, buddy. Did you _have _to take your clothes off?"

Alan cocked an eyebrow at this, as the mental image of Julia kneeling in the sand next to him, holding his clothes, flashed through his mind's eye. Those feelings of dread that had lifted just a moment before returned with reinforcements as he pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked down at himself. As he feared, he was dressed only in his Underoos, the sparkly red and yellow S-shield scuffed and dirty from having rolled around in the dirt.

"_This _is how they found me?" he asked in a small voice. "Everyone saw me in my underwear?"

Dad nodded. "See, the thing I'm not sure you get about the whole secret identity thing is that it's supposed to be, y'know, _secret_..."

Alan let his head drop back against the arm of the couch and covered his face with both hands, and groaned loudly. _This_ was gonna make the whole Barney the Pervert Dinosaur thing seem like a day at the beach. Why was it that whenever he thought things couldn't get any worse, they always _did_?

* * *

><p>At his mother's suggestion—promising her he would take it easy and avoid anything strenuous for the rest of the day—Alan got dressed again, then headed down into the Hoagie Hub, where Julia and Hayley had been waiting. It was oddly empty for this time of day as he descended the black spiral staircase into the restaurant, his parents having left it closed through the lunch rush while they'd tended to him. Sitting side-by-side on stools at the counter, chins propped in their hands as they chatted, the two girls immediately sprung to attention as they heard his sneakers on the stairs. The second he came into view, smiling sheepishly at him below his floppy hat, Hayley broke into a wide grin and rocketed off her stool and hurled herself across the floor towards him.<p>

"You're all right!" she cried, throwing herself at Alan and wrapping her arms around him tightly. "Oh, we were _so_ worried!"

"Uh..." Squirming uncomfortably, very much aware that he was being hugged by a virtual stranger who quite recently had seen him in nothing but his underwear, Alan reached up to pat her awkward between her shoulder blades."Yeah, um, thanks?"

Julia didn't get up, but settled back with her elbows against the counter, quietly scowling at Hayley's back as she practically mauled her brother.

"OK, Hayley," she said. Then, when Hayley didn't release him right away: "I said _OK, Hayley!_"

"Sorry," Hayley blushed, finally letting go and retreating back to the stool next to Julia. Her eyes remained glued to Alan the entire time, even as Julia's stubbornly refused to meet his. Instead, they wandered all around the room, looking at anything that _wasn't_ him. An awkward silence settled over the room, broken only by the sound of Julia bouncing the heel of one sneaker off the leg of the chair as she absently swung her feet back and forth.

"Don't you have anything you'd like to say to your brother, Julia?" Hayley prompted.

Julia glanced up at her before finally looking Alan in the face for a split second, then shrugged as her eyes darted away again. "Hey."

Alan blinked at her. "Hey."

Julia looked down and began fiddling with the zipper of the hoodie she wore. "So you didn't get killed.'

"Nope," Alan said. "Didn't get killed.'

Julia nodded, without looking up. "That's good, I guess."

"Yeah," Alan agreed.

Hayley, who had been looking back and forth between them as though she were following a tennis match, frowned deeply as silence fell over them again. "What, that's IT?"

"Well, what _else_ do you want me to say?" Julia whined.

"How 'bout _'thanks for saving my life, Alan'? How 'bout _'I'm happy you're not hurt, because I was really scared, Alan'_? Ooo, or how 'bout _'HOW IN THE HAIRY HECK DO YOU KEEP DOING THESE THINGS, ALAN'_?"_

Alan flushed beneath the brim of his floppy hat. He'd been worried they were gonna ask him that, had been wracking his brains for a plausible explanation ever since Mom had sent him upstairs to put some clothes on, but so far had come up with bupkis. And now Hayley was looking at him all expectantly, and—

"What are you talking about, Hayley?" Julia frowned at her. "What things?"

Hayley and Alan both turned to look at Julia as though they'd just noticed she had cucumbers growing out of her nose.

"What do you _mean _'what things'?" Hayley demanded. She pointed at Alan so furiously that he actually flinched away from it. "He switched places with you, somehow! I saw it! Fifi pushed you off the jungle gym, you fell, and then SHAZAM! There's this big flash, and then you're standing next to me and Alan is on the ground instead, in his underwear!"

Alan winced despite himself at 'in his underwear'. Of all the parts he was hoping nobody noticed, that was the one he'd honestly been hoping for hardest, magical secrecy be damned.

"Uh...listen..." he began, even though he had no idea what he was going to follow that up with. "I, uh...I don't—"

"Hayley, no offense, but I think maybe you just imagined all that stuff," Julia broke in evenly.

Again, Alan and Hayley blinked at her in unison.

"I what?" Hayley asked.

"She _what?_" Alan parroted her. His eyebrows rose so high they practically disappeared beneath the brim of his hat.

"Imagined it," Julia repeated, looking pointedly at Alan before she tilted her head to the side and smiled at Hayley. "You remember when we talked about what an active imagination you have, right?"

Hayley frowned again. "But...no...I saw..."

"Look," Julia huffed impatiently, "what _really_ happened is that Fifi started pushing me, you ran to get Alan, and then he climbed up and got between us, and Fifi pushed _him_ off the monkey bars after _I'd_ already climbed down and run over to _you_. Doesn't that make more sense?"

"I..._guess_ it could have happened that way...but I don't—"

"Trust me, that's how it happened," Julia said, nodding. "Which me-e-e-e-eans...that _you_ saved the day, Hayley!"

"I...I _did?_" Hayley asked.

"_She_ did?" Alan parroted her, jaw hanging open in disbelief.

"Sure!" Julia said brightly. "If _you_ hadn't gone to get Alan, _he_ wouldn't have come to stop the fight, and _I_ might have gotten hurt! So, you did it! You rescued me!"

Hayley blinked, and clasped both hands in front of her chest. "You mean...like a Powerpuff Girl?"

"_Exactly_ like a Powerpuff Girl!" Julia grinned. "You're Bubbles, baby!"

"I'M BUBBLES, BABY!" Hayley exclaimed, bouncing up and down excitedly on her stool.

"Hey, _I'm _still the one who got pushed off the monkey bars and got hurt and stuff!" Alan pointed out.

"Yeah, but that was _after_ I was already rescued," Julia scoffed, "so it totally doesn't count."

_"Doesn't count?"_

"I'm going to run home and tell my mom how I saved the day!" Hayley said excitedly as she jumped down off her stool, oblivious to Alan's dismay, and ran towards the door. "_'You'll never amount to _anything_ in show business until you can do a decent bite cramp roll, buddy.'_ HA! WELL, CRAMP ROLL _THIS_, MOM! I'M BUBBLES, BABY!'

Hayley yanked hard on the door, over and over again, unsuccessfully trying to open it, until Alan hurried over and unlocked it. Hayley favored him with a shy smile as he pulled it open for her.

"Thanks Alan," she said sweetly, not taking her eyes off him as she stepped outside. "Y'know, even though _I_ saved the day and everything...well...I _still_ think your Superman underwear is really, _really_ cool."

"Uh...OK," Alan reached up to scrub the back of his neck self-consciously. "Thanks, I gue—"

"OH MAN BUT NOW I'VE SAID TOO MUCH GOTTA GO BYE!" Hayley shouted, red-faced, then spun on her heel to run down Christopher Street, waving her arms over her head. Alan stared after her blankly until she disappeared into the crowd. Even after she was well out of sight, he could still hear her voice echoing faintly in the distance as she yelled to everyone she passed that she was Bubbles, baby.

"Wow," he muttered to himself. And _that_ was his replacement as Julia's best friend?

Oh, well...at least she seemed to have forgotten about what she'd seen, or no longer thought it seemed weird, at any rate. Alan sighed in relief as he shut the door and locked it again. He wouldn't have believed it, but it looked as though Dad had been right: mortals _would_ swallow just about any explanation, no matter how lame, as long as it made everything go back to normal again. And they really _did _fill in all the blanks for you, even the ones you hadn't thought of, just like Julia had for—

Alan stopped short, mid-thought, as he turned back around and saw the way his little sister glared at him from the counter, across the room. Arms crossed over her chest, eyes narrowed, mouth set into a tight, thin line. Even her pigtails seemed to be standing at attention somehow as she scrutinized him.

"What?" he asked, that now-familiar sense of dread settling back into the pit of his stomach.

"You _know_ what," Julia snapped. "Hayley didn't imagine anything, and I didn't either. You _flashed_ me, again, Alan. And I wanna know _how_."


	10. Chapter 10

**-10-**

"I—" Staring at his sister as she watched him expectantly, waiting for an answer, Alan took a deep, shaky breath, then plastered a smile across his face. "I kind of flashed _everybody_, actually. Ha-ha."

Julia either didn't get the joke, or just didn't think it was funny, because she didn't laugh, didn't even smile. Didn't react much at all, actually, except that her eyes tightened at the corners a little.

"Alan, just 'cause I'm littler than you doesn't mean I'm stupid," she said, bitterly. "You can't fool me like I fooled Hayley. So don't try, OK? I know you too good. And besides, you kinda suck at it."

"Yeah, I know," Alan groaned, shoulders slumped as he dragged himself over to the counter and sat down on the stool next to her that Hayley had vacated. Then, because he couldn't help himself, he added: "It's 'you know me too _well_', by the way, not—ow! OW!"

Alan recoiled as Julia, seemingly having lost her mind, started furiously slapping at him with both hands. He leaned back so far to get out of her reach that he almost fell right off his stool, and raised his arms over his face to protect it.

"OW! HEY! QUIT IT, JULIA! OW!"

"I'M SCARED, YOU RETARD! STOP BEING SUCH A STUPID KNOW-IT-ALL AND JUST TELL ME WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON ALREADY, PENIS-BREATH!"

_"What's going on down there?"_ Mom's voice called down the stairs.

Alan and Julia froze in place, and turned their heads towards the black spiral staircase that led up into the loft.

_"Nothing!" _they said in unison.

_"It doesn't sound like nothing!"_ Mom said. _"If you know what's good for you, you'll knock it off! Don't make me come down there!"_

_"OK, Mom,"_ they replied together, even as they pulled apart from one another. Alan straightened the anti-magic hat on his head, as Julia crossed her arms over her chest again, glaring at him sullenly.

"What do you mean you're scared?" Alan asked her, frowning. "Are you scared of _me_?"

Julia's cheeks reddened beneath her dark brown eyes as the darted away from him, towards the door, as though she hadn't meant to admit that. Silently, she shrugged her shoulders.

"Ugh." Alan reached up and rubbed his eyes. Great. Every time he thought this couldn't get any worse...it wasn't enough that his sister hated him, that she was embarrassed by him, but now she was _frightened_ of him, too?

"Is that why you covered for me with Hayley?" he asked, his voice raw. "Because you thought I might...because you're scared of me?"

Julia let out her breath in a huff and rolled her eyes at him. Alan realized with a start that they were glittering with barely-contained tears.

"I'm not scared _of_ you, stupid-head," she growled. "I'm scared _for_ you. You've always been weird, but this is _too_ weird, even for you. People already don't like you. If they found out about all _this_—" Julia waved her hands vaguely at him—"they might stop just calling you names and try to hurt you, or take you away to weirdo jail, or something. Y'know, like in that show."

Alan blinked at this, confused. "What show?"

"_Every_ show!" Julia snapped, throwing her hands up. "All that stupid boy stuff you make me watch! _X-Men_, _Spider-Man_, _Ninja Turtles_, the stupid _Incredible Hulk_...um...that other one with the big dragon-looking guys that turn into stone during the daytime..."

"_Gargoyles_?"

"Yeah, that one," Julia nodded, pointing at him. "Even Superman! They all have to hide, or run from the police, or wear masks, or pretend to be somebody else, because they're different and people are scared of them, even though they're good guys. And you're just no _good_ at any of that stuff, Alan! You _suck_ at lying, you run like a _girl_, you _always _lose at hide-n-go-seek, and you stick out like a...a...a big, stupid belly-button!"

Alan burst into laughter at this, despite the gravity of her tone, which of course only upset Julia even more. Eyes flaring, she raised her hands to start smacking him again.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" Alan chuckled, rearing away from her and holding his arms in front of his face again. "I didn't mean to laugh, I just...I can't believe you actually _get_ it!"

"What, get that you _suck_? I've been telling you that forever!"

"No, that you get why I can't tell you—"

Alan broke off, and looked towards the stairs, at where they disappeared up into the loft, where their parents were. His eyebrows bunched themselves together under the brim of his hat as he inwardly debated with himself. He'd never willfully disobeyed them before...that was Julia's area of expertise...but maybe...

"_What_, Alan?" Julia demanded. "Can't tell me _what?_"

Alan swiveled his eyes back towards her and nodded once, his mind made up.

"C'mon," he said, smiling as he held his hand out to her. "There's something I want to show you."

* * *

><p>"A wizard?" Julia asked. Perched on the edge of their father's dirty brown recliner in the Wizard's Grotto, she frowned up at her brother. "What, you mean like Harry Potter?"<p>

Staring down at her, his expression as solemn as it had ever been, Alan simply nodded.

"Bullshit," Julia scoffed.

Alan snorted, then shook his head and covered his face with his palm. "Don't cuss, Julia. And it is not, either. I really am a wizard. So is Uncle Kirby. And dad _used _to be one, I think, but he isn't any more, for some reason I don't get. Really. Scout's honor."

"Bullshit!" Julia repeated, grinning at the way it made Alan wince. "You're so making this up! Magic isn't _real_, penis-breath. It's make believe. Fairy tale stuff."

"How can you say that?" Alan asked, incredulous. "I've flashed you twice! Actually, three times, since the first time I flashed you here and then flashed you back. And I just _brought you through the freezer door into a room that shouldn't even be here._How do you explain all that if it's not magic?"

Julia pursed her lips together in deep thought as she considered this, then snapped her fingers. "That's easy: it's CGI."

Alan blinked at her. "What?"

"_See Gee Eye,_" Julia said again, slowly. "Y'know, special effects? Like in the movies? Big stupid alien dude _looks_ like he's walking next to Natalie Portman, but he's not _really _there?"

"I _know_ what CGI is!" Alan snapped. "I was the one who explained it to you! I just can't—how can you possibly think all this is special effects when you're _sitting right here_?"

"So prove it, then," Julia challenged him. "Do some magic right now. And no flashing me again. Something different, this time."

"I _can't_ do any other magic, though," Alan growled, annoyed at himself as much as he was at her. "Not yet, anyway. I'm not...I'm still don't have control over it. That's why I've had to wear the stupid hat. It blocks my powers, so they don't go all crazy and make me breathe fire again, or cause another thunderstorm in the garage."

Julia's eyes flicked up towards the hat, sitting atop his head, then back down to meet his. She cocked one eyebrow skeptically.

"Bullshit," she smirked.

"Ngh!" Alan groaned, dropping his head in frustration. "Would you _please_ stop saying that? I'm telling you the truth, here. Did you not see me make the boyscout salute, before? Why _else _would I wear this ugly thing?"

"Because you're a dork," Julia said, as though this was obvious. "You do embarrassing stuff all the time, _Barney_. That doesn't make you a wizard."

"For the last time, I am _too_ a wizard! I'm just not a very _good _one, yet!"

Julia was quiet for a second. "OK, _that_ I believe."

"Hey!" Alan said, raising his head to glare at her. "I've only been a wizard for a little more than a week, OK? I'm still learning. Wizard lessons aren't like regular school, y'know. They're actually _hard_."

"Or maybe they're like sports, and you just suck at it," Julia said. Standing up out of the chair, she started wandering around the Grotto, poking at anything that caught her eye. "I'd be an _awesome_ wizard. _Way _better'n you."

"Just a second ago you said you didn't believe in magic," said Alan, rolling his eyes as he walked around the chair and grabbed her hand before she could break something. "Now you think you'd be better at it than I am?"

Julia shrugged one shoulder, but made no effort to take her hand back. "If wizards were real, _you_ would make a terrible one. Because you're a boy. Everyone knows _girls_ are better at magic. Like Willow on _Buffy_, or whatshername with the frizzy hair in Harry Potter...I dunno, Minnie something?"

"Hermione Granger," Alan said automatically. "And being a girl has nothing to do with it. They're both only good with magic because they study and work hard!"

"Oh," Julia said flatly, making the face she usually made when the idea of hard work was brought up. Still, she rallied. "Well, _that's_ a waste of time. _I'd_ be so good with magic that I wouldn't _need_ to study. I'd do spells like _that_."

She snapped her fingers again, nonchalantly. And there was something about the smug look on her face as she did it, about the way she was so easily dismissing this awesome secret he'd shared with her, against his better judgment, that made a fire start to burn in his chest. Setting his jaw, squaring his shoulders, he sat down on the edge of the recliner and reached up to snatch the anti-magic hat off his head.

"Oh sure, _here_ you take it off, where nobody can see us," Julia said.

"Shut up," Alan growled, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "You want to see some magic? Here, watch that candle on the table, there."

Julia frowned at him. "Why? What're you gonna—?"

"Hush!" Alan cut her off, as he narrowed his eyes and stared fixedly at the scorched end of the candle's wick. "Just. Watch."

He knew he was supposed to close his eyes, spend a few minutes just breathing, clearing his mind. He knew he was supposed to focus on the candle and _only_ the candle, nothing and nobody else. Especially, as Dad had instructed, _not_ his sister.

But Julia was all he could think about. Julia, and that smug look on her face, and how good it was gonna feel to wipe it right off her face when he proved to her that magic was real. That he really _was_ a wizard. And that studying was _not _a waste of time, dammit. The fire burning in his chest flared hotter the more he thought about it, grew until it felt like it was consuming his entire body from the inside. And just when he thought he couldn't contain it anymore, he pictured the look of wonder and amazement that would appear on his sister's face once he'd succeeded, and...

_"Flame be nimble, flame be quick, flame light up my candle stick!"_

The fire seemed to rush right out of him, all at once, as soon as he finished reciting the spell. And then Julia let out a little gasp of surprise as the candle spontaneously flared to life, with a dancing flame that stood almost two inches high. Alan exhaled sharply—nearly causing the flame to go out—then smirked over it at where his sister stood watching it. Her mouth hanging open in utter shock, the reflection of the burning candle dancing in chocolate brown eyes as wide as dinner plates, exactly the way he'd imagined them. And it was easily the most satisfying thing he'd ever seen in his very short life, so far.

"Magic is _real_," she said, her voice just a shade over a whisper. She tore her eyes away from the candle, and stared at him with something approaching awe. "Magic is _REAL!_ You really _ARE _a wizard!"

Alan leaned back in the chair, flushed with pride as he watched the candle, the flickering proof of his mastery over magic...or at least the first lesson in it. "Told you so."

"This. Is. AWESOME!" Julia shrieked, rushing to his side and throwing her arms around him. "We can do anything we _want_, now! Quick, flash us to the candy store, Alan! Or Disney World! Yeah, flash us to Disney World!"

"Uh..."

"Nonono, wait...flash us to a candy store _IN_ Disney World! And then make me a _pony!_"

"Julia, I can't do any of that, yet!" Alan said, pushing her off of him. "I don't know how! Lighting a candle with my brain was only the first lesson!"

"What do you _mean_ you don't know how?" Julia snapped. "What happened to _'I've flashed you three times already!'_"

"By _accident_," Alan said. "And look how well it worked the last time. Do you want to wind up in Disney World in just your underpants?"

"If it means free candy, yes!"

"Julia..." Alan sighed heavily. "Look, magic can be dangerous if you don't know what you're doing, OK? You saw how bad I got hurt today. I wouldn't want _you_ to get hurt like that."

"But Alan—!'

"And we need to be careful to keep it a secret from people," Alan pressed on. "We can't just do whatever we want, or people might find out, and get scared and try to take me away, or something. Y'know, like you said."

Julia opened her mouth to protest again, then blinked and frowned as she realized that he was using her own argument against her. And she wasn't about to insist that something _she'd_ said had been wrong when, as far as she was concerned, Julia was _never_ wrong.

"Oh yeah, right," she said flatly, as she slumped back into the recliner next to him. "Well, _you're_ no fun."

"Being a wizard isn't about fun, Julia. It's serious business," Alan said in his big brother voice, the one he used whenever their parents left him in charge. Then, when she rolled his eyes at him, he added: "I mean it, Julia. You have to keep this a secret. You can't even tell Mom and Dad. We have to pretend you don't know."

"Huh? But don't Momma and Daddy already know?"

"Of _course _they know," Alan said. "But they said I couldn't tell you. They said you were too little to be able to understand. That you'd couldn't keep it to yourself, and you'd tell everybody."

Taking offense at this, Julia thrust her bottom lip out in an angry pout. "I am _not _too little! I can too keep things to myself!"

"I know, Julia," Alan agreed patiently. "That's why I told you."

"Oh," Julia said, then narrowed her eyes at him. "Wait...so you're breaking the rules for me? You wanna _lie_ to Momma and Daddy?"

Alan's entire body flinched as though she'd struck him. "Just until they say you're old enough to know for real. So only for, y'know...a couple of years, maybe?"

A wicked grin began to spread slowly across Julia's features. "But I thought you said you couldn't _doooooo_ that, Alan."

"Julia..." Alan groaned, at a loss for words. He didn't know how to explain that, as guilty as he felt for even suggesting it, he knew that lying to their parents was by far the lesser of two evils, compared to the idea of having to continually lie to her. That, given the choice, he would _always_ choose her, over anyone. That the idea of _not_ having her share in something that was so huge was so foreign to him, it was utterly ridiculous.

She seemed to understand, though, even if he hadn't said it out loud. Or maybe she just liked the idea of having something she could blackmail him with. Because, eyes shining, she smiled mischievously and said, "OK, I won't tell."

"You promise?"

"Cross my heart," she nodded, drawing an exaggerated X over her chest with her index finger. "But only if _you _promise to make me a pony as soon as you learn how."

"Well...we'll see," Alan said. He stood up and gestured for her to do the same. "We'd better go. We gotta get back before Mom and Dad notice we're gone, and start looking for us."

"Awwww, but we just _got_ here!" Julia whined. "I wanted to look at all the cool weird magic stuff!"

"Later," he said. He wrapped one hand around hers, tried to pull her up out of the chair, and sighed impatiently as she stubbornly refused to budge. "Julia, c'mon. It's not going anywhere. You'll have all kinds of chances to see it all."

"I'd better," Julia pouted, reluctantly allowing him to draw her to her feet and herd her towards the freezer door.

"You will," he insisted. Then, with a smile, he added: "We've got the whole rest of our lives to hang out here alone together, just you and me. It'll be like our Fortress of Solitude."

"Ugh, that's like the dumbest name ever," Julia groaned, wrinkling her nose. As Alan dragged her away from the chair, she reached back at the last minute and snatched up the anti-magic hat from where it lay on the arm, then slapped it against his chest. "Almost forgot your ugly hat, dorkface."

"Oh!" he said, looking down at it in surprise as he took it from her. "Thanks, but...I think maybe I don't need to wear it anymore."

"Ugh, thank _God_. Quick, let's throw it away before you change your mind."

"Hey, if you're so embarrassed by it, why do you keep giving the stupid thing _back _to me every time I lose it?"

"I—" Julia hesitated, the skin behind her ears turning pink as he watched her, waiting for an explanation. "Because I know if you _did_ lose it, you'd just be a big, whiny crybaby about it. And that'd be even _more_ embarrassing."

"I am _not _a crybaby," Alan growled, as he pressed his free hand against the door's push-bar, swinging it open into the kitchen of the Hoagie Hub.

"Are you kidding me?" Julia scoffed. "Remember in the summer when I let—I mean, when the pizza delivery guy let Wally out, and he ran away and got lost? You cried for _three weeks!"_

"I did _not_, Julia."

"You did _too_, Alan."

"No, I _didn't!_"

"Yes, you _did!_"

"Didn't!"

"Did!"

Still hand-in-hand, Alan and Julia stepped back out into the real world—bickering the way they always had, always would—as the freezer door slammed shut behind then, leaving the candle he'd lit with only the power of his brain to burn itself out in the Wizard's Grotto. And even though life was more complicated now than it had ever been before...even though he was fairly certain Julia would let it slip to her parent that she knew the truth before the end of the month, that Hayley Finster was probably here to stay, and that he'd definitely spend the rest of third grade being tormented for his taste in underwear that was fun to wear...Alan had still never been happier.

Magic was real. He was a wizard. And Julia loved him again. For the moment, nothing else mattered. As far as Alan Rubik was concerned, all was right with the world.

**— Fin —**


End file.
